


Stay With Me

by BubblegumCannibal



Series: Commissions and Gifts [9]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: Cowboy butts drive me nuts, F/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 09:22:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19373842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubblegumCannibal/pseuds/BubblegumCannibal
Summary: It's all she wants, really. His company was always so welcomed. However, he seems to be more enamored than she thinks.





	Stay With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Arthur is quite the handsome lad, huh?

“Stay with me. Can’t loose you lookin’ over my shoulder, crack shot! Best I stay close to y’ good side rather at barrel’s end.”

It’s the first thing he says to her that day that hangs over her like the sun on a spring morning. She’s had others put her down where he did nothing but praise her talents. So many lazy officers kicked from her office in such a short time, but he stayed the longest with that big, broad, glowing smile. Ever since he showed up to Brantsford, he’s been nothing but kind—his friend, when he wanted to be, but Mr. Williams? A breath of fresh air.

Oh how Erin’s heart ached for a man like him. He was gentle from the start. Light, little touches with every conversation, his calloused fingers skimming across her arm would bring goose pimples by the bunch… But she passed it off like a childlike crush.

He was kind, more so than the rest that lived within the city, and by the heavens above, she fell for that charm of his like an excited pig in slop. That gruff laugh of his or how he’d try to smother out a chuckle with the back of his hand had her watching him quietly, heart flittering as he’d give her a nudge or a passing glance… and she couldn’t understand why. Mr. Williams was just some stranger that wanted a job while he stayed in the city. All of it had to be temporary… right?

_Right?_

If only that be the case.

She saw him—a gentle soul, helping hand… **_conman_** —and it did nothing but further her enticement of him. Even knowing he was a liar and common thief, Mr. Williams—no… _No… **Morgan.**_ That was his name or, well, that’s what the Pinkertons called him and that raider crew, who lie in wait over the hills, knew nothing of him when he helped locked them up to get them out of her hair. But the Pinkertons blabbed like old ladies after church.

Arthur Morgan was no man to be trusted.

He was _evil,_ they said. Watched men die ‘neath the barrel of his rifle with a dead look in his eye. “The walkin’ Devil,” they called him. “Saw him back in some shit stain of a city. Killed my brothers. Killed my cousins. He ain’t nothin’ but Death in a nice vest and he’s gonna wipe your city too.”

_Shit’s for show. He’s gonna kill you._

The everlasting thought ran rampant in her head for days after running across them. They were hungry for justice to a man she barely knew, and even more excited to have her be the one to bring him to them.

Yet…

There’s something about that man that drags out the childlike innocence from her. There’s a whimsy that follows him like a quiet storm that Erin trails with curiosity. Those Pinkertons dropped a tattered wanted photo in her hands and her heart wanted more.  If he’s dangerous, everything changes. The world might come to a standstill and he does exactly what the Pinkertons claim… Or he’s understanding and things go on as normal… He leaves. Brantsford is quiet once again.

She chews on her lip, watching that hardened gaze sparkle from the candlelight as he towers over her, pressing her against the wall with that tattered bounty crumpled in his fist. There’s no kindness here. No sweet pet names. No smile.

And it _ruins_ her.

“Your my friend, no matter who you are and who you pretend to be. You saved me, Arthur, so I did the same for you. Stay with me for just a little while, at least, until they stop lookin’.”

“Can’t do that… If they know we’re here, you’re in danger. But you got this.”

She latched to that. Arthur had become a beacon of courage, in a way. An outlaw, of course. There’s nothing she can do to change that. He had to become someone for honest work but knowing that thief—that **_outlaw_** —was far more alluring than some clean cut, law-abiding choir boy… but she couldn’t tell him that. Erin was a stoic officer. With him giving little tips and bumping her self-esteem, she wat the fear that kept her home in check. She couldn’t be seen falling in love with someone like _him._

Nevertheless, there she was, in the middle of it all, watching her savior lift her from the ashes of the place she once called home. Through the pain that throbbed in her body, all she could feel was the heat against her skin and the gruff of his voice, “I gotcha. Come on. _Stay with me._ ”

**_Stay with me._ **

It echoes in her head months after Brantsford had been razed to the ground. No farms stand as memory of their triumphs. No taverns to ever show they strived as a city. Not even a train station stood in its wake. Brantsford was nothing but a graveyard riddled with the charred bones of the innocent and makeshift crosses to mark the clusters of graves that blended together.

But Erin was alive and perhaps there were others… However, she wasn’t alone. She did have Arthur.

O’ God above, did she have Arthur. At her worst, he was there, tending to her wounds, helping with the shell shock revelation that everything she held was gone. Life as she knew it had came to such a hard stop, but _she was alive._ And even when she was fine, he was there, memorizing each and every little new scar with the tips of those rough fingers of his, dragging down her skin slowly.

At times, it was mindless, as if he were looking over her with regret. However, tonight? Tonight was different. It was slow and mindful. He had caught her between words, a kiss so quick it snatched the air from her lungs. From there starts the beginning of a wanted dream. Arthur is gentle as he is nimble, hands taking no time to pluck free the buttons of her shirt to expose the scarred skin of her chest and stomach. Erin flinches at the feel of his hands, so rough, skimming across her once again, this time aware of where they’re going as they disappear up the back of her shirt.

In this moment, there were no “I love you’s” or “I’ve dreamt of this” spoken between shared breath, of which, the silence was welcomed. It was embraced from the tiny noises made as he felt her lean into their breathless kisses, hearing the counter creek softly beneath her bum from where she sat.

Here lay hunger ‘twixt the two. One built up and left to fester over time. No longer had they waited for permission to pull at one another. There was no wait between eager hands that fumbled at belt buckles or noses smashed against each other in messy attempts for sloppy kisses and impatient movements. It was wanted— _needed._

She’s off the counter now, Erin is, with an attempt to shimmy off her own drawers before her hands are pulled away and restrained with his wrapped around her wrist. Arthur pulls her back, his mouth at her throat, the rough stubble of his beard scratching at her throat and the wet warmth of his tongue against sensitive skin. And she gasps on stuttered breath, feeling greedy fingers beneath her under-clothing, making their way to flick across her clit. It’s a new feeling from there. Her body shutters and her mouth falls open to give no noise as she grinds against his palm, feeling his fingers dip deeper into her.

Erin’s so lost. Her mind is swimming. Time spent with his people gave her a new look at what life was like outside of her home. Despite how bad they were spoken of; they were kind souls. None as sweet as Arthur, nor as gentle—if _gentle_ could explain the ferocity given now. Her heart craved what family they held in their camp, but her body even more to the man leaving kisses among her skin.

He’s got her on the tips of her toes now. Knickers and trousers kicked off into the abyss of the room and shirts somewhere in a heap together, from what it looked like, he had her just where he needed her, up against him and silently whimpering for his touch.

“You’re perfect,” Arthur whispers into her golden hair, hissing between his teeth as he pushes into her slowly. “ _So_ _perfect, crack shot._ ” She could feel him press another kiss into her hair then a few more down the side of her face until his lips lingered on the gnarled burn scar at her shoulder. He moves slow, back and forth, finding a rhythm to fit them both comfortably, hands still roaming the softness of her body until they rested easily at the curve of her ass.

Erin may have been a sheriff of a town most forgot, but she, herself, was unforgettable. She could have turned he and Dutch away at the beginning and she would have remained a memory in the back of his mind, but she brought them in, gave them food and bed to help them “get back on their feet” despite never actually needing it. However, that’s what happens when the people around you drop you into the depths of your father’s shadow.

She _had_ to be perfect for Brantsford and they didn’t see it. She, alone, pushed raiders and rogues from her city and pushed her hand high to ensure that they never returned. She succeeded. Arthur saw that. She succeeded where they thought she’d fail. And it was seeing her stand tall, her straw-colored hair shining in the sunlight, as she lined up her enemies through the iron-scopes of her rifle—

Arthur shuddered at that thought, pace picking up now. Lord help him, _that_ sight of her did him in. It was _power_. He could remember the smell of the gunpower in the air after hearing the first crack, she never moved. He was in awe with how quickly she moved regardless to the fact that she _barely_ moved at all. Enemies fell with one shot and his heart was full. The people of Brantsford knew nothing of what they held and they squandered it.

But he won’t.

Erin, to that “ruthless” outlaw, Arthur Morgan, was perfection only heaven could give.

He pulls back for a moment, spinning the woman around and lifting her into his hands to help her back up onto the counter. Yet, for just a moment, he stares at her. Messy yes, the last of her smallclothes still hooked around her arm, however the rest of her invites him back between her legs.

“I wanna hear ya, crack shot,” he speaks, pressing his girth back into her, inch by grueling inch that curls her toes and drags out a low, wanted groan. “Atta girl… atta girl.”

He’s back to being in her space with slow, lazy stroke that bring her to squirm beneath him, but that’s not enough is it? Her breasts, pale with bright pink nipples, sat entrancing to him as they bounced. It was almost hypnotizing, but still ungodly beautiful. Arthur dips low, his mouth catching her nipple betwixt his lips while a hand pinches the other. Here, she’s softer than before and smells of sweat and lilac. A few grabs here and a nip and pull there, he can feel the goosebumps rise on her skin under his tongue as he laps away at her in excitement.

Yet, after a few gentle kisses, Arthur drags her to the edge of the low counter with a grunt, hunching over her with a focusing on her red cheeks and half-lidded eyes. With time, he speeds up, watching her movements carefully as her body twists and turns beneath him. Her dull nails gripped into his forearms and her back arches as he presses deeper and deeper into her.

She’s close and it’s the sound of her hiccup’ed moans that catch his attention. Although, it’s the sound of his name spoken into the air that sparks something primal within him. He’s harsher now, hips thrashing against her to force out louder squeaks and moans from the smaller woman. Hands at Erin’s thighs, he keeps her taut in place in hopes to work out an orgasm he knows is fairly near.

All he wants is her to feel bliss. Erin deserves it more than the world and if this be the start of something better between the two of them, he’d welcome it happily.

He can feel her body clenching around his cock, thrusts becoming harder to control and his own desire shivering down his spine. “Cum with me, angel. Come on…” His body spasms and shudders  once she grows quiet, her legs tightening around his waist before slowly falling limp.

“Arthur…?” She’s panting, Erin is. Slowly she sits up with a wobble, but never climbs down.

“Yes,” he replies, wrapping an arm around her to help her down.

“Stay with me tonight?”

He could go back to the camp and dread the moment he decided not to stay back in this no-named town with her. Or he could stay the night and the next if she kept him longer. Then again, it was better to hide out with her. Quieter. Warmer… “Of course. I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

She trembles on her toes, lifting up just enough to place a kiss upon his lips. “I’ll always need you.”

And he smiles, the wrinkles at his eyes lovely, “That’s a good mentality, ‘cause only death can take me away.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. But I won’t let that day ever come. I’ll never leave your side.”

_I’ll stay with you for good._

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing happened to Arthur and you can't tell me otherwise.


End file.
